A Second Chance To Get It Right

Chapter 4-3

I pick up my son from the sitter and get home just as Monica pulls into the driveway. Tommy is out the door and running to his mother with the card he made in art class for her today. It’s fortunate I saw it before getting home, otherwise I would’ve blown off Monica’s birthday. I grab my satchel, my card, and a single red rose I picked up at Sweetheart Market from the front seat and follow him over. (A rose. Yeah, I know, I’m just going through the motions here, pretending to be the man she thinks I am. But hey, I’m doing the best I can.)

She collects Tommy in her arms, making a huge fuss over his card as I walk up. “Happy Birthday,” I say.

As she corrals our son in her arms, she takes the rose from me. “Wow, look at this pretty rose Padre got Madre,” she says to him.

Before Tommy can open his mouth, I say, “He helped me pick it out.” I wink at Tommy to let him know to play along.

Tommy bursts into a smile. “Padre was going to get the pink one, but I said get the red one.”

You hopped right on that train, didn’t you little guy? I laugh. “Yes he did,” I say, and step around the two of them to fetch her bag from the front seat. Setting Tommy down with his card, she takes her bag from me and the three of us walk to the house. When we get inside, I set our bags down and tell them I’m taking them both out to dinner tonight at Denny’s. I don’t get an argument.

Twenty minutes later we’re back in the car. The radio is pumping out “The Power of Love” by Huey Lewis and the News, and we’re all swaying to the beat and humming along. As the song ends, the DJ comes on talking about the weekend band fare around town. I’m not paying much attention, because I’m thinking things will be happening later tonight. (Yes, I went there.) When the guy on the radio brings up The Brigade coming to The West, I look up.

“I almost forgot. Robbie wants us to meet him at The West on Friday. Tiffany dumped him, and with everyone being there—whoever “everyone” is, I have no idea— he wants some support in case she walks in.”

“Tiff broke up with him? When?”

Uh-oh, they’re friends! “Last night, I guess. He’s pretty bummed about it.”

“Aw damn. That’s awful. Did he say why?”

I shake my head. Women, and their need for details. “I have no idea.”

Monica digs into her purse and pulls out her day planner. From the corner of my eye, I see her shaking her head. “I can’t do Friday unless I switch shifts with Linda. I can see if I can do her Sunday shift, I suppose.”

Just like I figured. Meeting Tiff is going to happen whether I want it to or not. “Never mind, I’ll go if I can find a sitter.”

“I’m sure your mother will take him.”

My mother? I blink. Jesus. How could I forget her? Of course she’d still be alive, and so would my deadbeat father.